Intimacy
by bookstvnerdlove
Summary: It's a little exchange, you see, this thing called intimacy. He gives, she gives. They both win.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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"It's not the same, you know," Emma says one night as they are alone in her apartment. Regina whisked Henry off to safety earlier in the day. Trying to protect him from the frigid air that's descended on Storybrooke with a distant but polite, _I will keep him safe, Ms. Swan. _Regina failed to mention to Emma where she planned to take the boy, but Killian assumes that Henry passed the message along because when Emma looked at her phone later in the evening her body sighed in relief, noticeably relaxed.

They were supposed to be doing research, reading through the stacks of books the librarian dropped off for them yesterday, searching for any answers to clue them into the cause of this icy blast of air and snow that fell in strange, isolated patches. After hours of reading through old tomes and trying to decipher drawings and strange languages, Emma grabbed his hand to drag him over to the couch where they now lay, limbs entwined and clothes askew. Her underclothes and pants deposited somewhere on the floor next to his shirt, and her skin flushed and still thrumming in afterglow.

Only seconds before she spoke, her hand was gently pressing at him through the leather, sliding up to unlace his pants, his head rolling back and eyes closed. It's as though they are playing a game. He makes her come apart and in return, she gives him a secret. He would feel vaguely insulted if this were any other woman, as though he some sort of paid companion except with exchanges of word instead of coin. But this is _Emma_. He knows that with every moment he remains by her side, and with every night that he spends making her wild (and remains until daybreak) that she trusts him more with these small pieces.

Her hand still rests on him, only a slight pressure that drives him mad. He wants her secrets, he wants _all_ of her. But he also wants to relieve this need that always rises when he's with her. He groans and thrusts his hips into her hand, his eyes on her face watching hers flicker up and down his body. Eyes dark and tongue flicking out to lick her lips, he hopes that it means she will abandon her secret for just a few moments longer.

Instead, she removes her hand as she leans in to place a soft kiss on his lips, which does nothing to relieve him until the soothing sensation of her hands running through his hair, sliding until her arms loop around his neck, takes the sharpest edge off his need.

"My two sets of memory," she continues, "It's not the same as when Mary Margaret and David came out of the curse."

Her face is so close to his, so he leans in to nudge her nose with his before capturing her lips. She sighs into his mouth, lazily, their lips clinging and releasing. Clinging and releasing, before he pulls back to say, "Tell me, love."

Her eyes close as she continues to talk, her voice still drowsy with latent desire, "My mother was trying to talk to me about these dual memories that first night we got back. You know, when you had my mother ambush me with your flask of rum."

He laughs as he remembers having to carry her upstairs to her room at Granny's, throwing her over his shoulder, laughing uncontrollably after he told her that he had carried rum barrels heavier than her. She never did share why she found that so bloody funny and he reminds himself to ask her about it. But later, much later.

She continues, her voice soothing and melodic as he revels in this trust that she continues to bestow upon him, "But it's not the same and I don't know how to talk to her about that. When they were under the curse it was as though they had that one key part of their personality ripped from them along with their memories. And when they came out of it. When I _broke_ it, the got it back, like something just clicked into place and they were whole again."

He strokes his hand through her hair, enjoying the silky feel of it as he twirls one of her curls around his finger. He gives a small hum of approval for her to keep going, to keep sharing with him.

"But for me, Regina didn't take a part of myself away. She _gave_ me something that I didn't have before."

He pulls back slightly and arches an eyebrow at her, which she quickly acknowledges, "I know. I _know_. We're not going back to my debate about returning to New York. I also got back my family, and _you_, with my memories. But here's the thing."

He waits, very still, for her to continue, because he knows that when she uses that phrase, _here's the thing,_ she's preparing herself for sharing some immense truth.

"When I was pregnant with Henry, in jail, I knew that I couldn't take care of a kid when I got out. Even though I wanted him, _so much_. I just didn't have any faith in myself that I was equipped to raise a kid. I mean, what the hell did I know about family, right? But with the new memories, Regina gave that courage to me. And when I got everything else back with my memories, my parents, _you_, I also felt like I lost that courage and faith. It was so hard to find them again."

His hand, which was tangling idly through her hair, now slides to her chin as he grips it tightly and lifts her face so that she can't avoid his eyes, "You're not the only person who is trying to reconcile emotions of the past with what you feel now, love. Perhaps that is all your mother was trying to say."

Her body just sighs into his, curling further until they are perfectly aligned, "You're right. What are you always so bloody _right_ about these things?"

He places a kiss to her forehead, right where small curls are beginning to form and says, "You and I, we understand each other." Which earns him a small bite on his shoulder and an Emma laugh, just a short huff of air that forms deep in her belly, and with their proximity the vibrations running through his body as it also goes through hers.

He hears her voice, teasing in response as her hand slides back down his arm along his torso, _finally_ landing in its original position, "Throwing my words back at me. Bad form, Captain."

His heart begins to race as the blood rushes down, and he's beyond words as she makes quick work undoing his laces before dragging him to a sitting position when everything suddenly escalates, the air between them so heavy with her sudden greed.

She lowers her body to the floor as she tugs his pants off. (And why, oh why, does the leather seem so much more constricting when they're in a race to unclothe themselves?) And then she's back, up and straddling him, her arms gripping the back of the couch and her body hovering over his. His hips are thrusting as he moans, "Emma, love, stop teasing me."

His fingers find her as one of her hands reaches down to grip the base of his cock and she's already so slick, so ready, that she just slides down. They remain motionless for a moment, as her forehead leans down to his. When she starts to smile, he reaches in and tugs her bottom lip between his teeth, and she begins to move in slow circles.

His hand finds the small of her back and presses until she speeds up her movement, and _gods_, he decides that he wants it hard and fast because he knows there will be a next time, and he can savor her as much as he wants. He leans his head into her neck and just breathes in her scent, _their scents_ mingling. His hips are thrusting up as hers continue to circle, faster and faster. Her hands move back to grip the couch as she throws her head back.

He feels her hair tickling his legs as the golden waves cascade down. He can tell that she is with him on this speedy race, that their need fuels each other. His hand reaches up to grip her hair, and just when he pulls tight and drags his mouth across her neck to her jaw, he feels her insides flutter around him, triggering his own release, as she lets out a low moan.

(Later, after they've moved to the bed and Killian has spent hours exploring every dip and curve of her body for what feels like both the first time and the millionth time, Emma turns to face him and asks with a grin, "So, did you ever hear the story about some damn bar wench and the fearsome Captain Hook?")

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_A/N: as a PSA, they've been together for at least a month and doctor's visits have happened. Safe sex, y'all. ;)_


End file.
